Two more cents on the Dirty Little Secrets of Motherhood.
When I was pregnant with my oldest, I decided that I planned to breastfeed my children. My initial goal was to breastfeed exclusively for six months, and if that was successful, I would continue until the baby was a year old. I was fortunate that, with all three boys, I was able to breastfeed them for their first year of life.
To be honest, the decision was mostly selfish. First of all, formula is expensive while breast milk is not. Second, I had read that breastfeeding helps a new mom lose the baby weight quicker. I cannot deny that I am a cheapskate and that I like being thin, so in addition to knowing that I was providing my child with an important foundation for good health and development, those two reasons had me sold. It wasn't until I weaned my third that I found out the Dirty Little Secret about breastfeeding.
Yeah. I figured that after breastfeeding three kids, my breasts were not going to look the same. I knew that they would be a little... stretched out. deflated. Perhaps a wee bit smaller. But I didn't count on losing TWO FULL CUP SIZES. Yes, you read that right - I lost two full cup sizes. And I was not a busty girl before kids. In fact, I could have been just barely too big for the IBTC (itty bitty... you get where I'm going with this, don't you?).
It took some time, including one tearful experience with a bra fitter at Victoria's Secret and several months of Pilates classes, but I am at peace with my tiny boobies. They don't cause me back pain. They don't have far to sag since there's not much to them. No, my complaint is that I now wear a bra size that, apparently, most grown women are not, since the only place I can find my size is in the preteen department. Sure, there are some cute little bras, but come on. I'm 40. I don't want a Hello Kitty bra at this stage of my life. I want to be able to walk into the lingerie section of a department store and buy a bra off the rack instead of special ordering one online at a specialty boutique.
So, if any of my numerous readers out there are department store lingerie buyers, I implore you to start buying some AA-cup bras for us tiny booby women out there. Trust me, we exist. And in addition to refusing to adorn our girls with Hello Kitty, we're also tired of wearing A-cups that we can no longer fill. C'mon, help a mother out!